


I Know You Have A Heavy Heart

by paintmewithwordsandphrases



Series: Stucky ABO-verse series [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alpha Natasha, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Beta Sam, Beta Tony, Canon Disabled Character, Deaf Clint Barton, Depression, Dorks in Love, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Mutual Pining, Non-Serum Steve Rogers/Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes | Shrinkyclinks, Omega Clint, Omega Steve, Parially deaf Steve Rogers, Shameless Smut, Skinny Steve, Smut, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Winter Soldier Bucky, alpha bucky, but no rape/non-con, graphic depictions of sex, pre-serum steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-30 07:23:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8523850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paintmewithwordsandphrases/pseuds/paintmewithwordsandphrases
Summary: An ABO shrinkyclinks coffee shop Stucky AU that no one asked for, but getting anyway.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is just something I wrote during my free time to keep me sane while working 2 jobs. It's un-beta'd so my mistakes are my own. I might add more one-shot drabbles in this universe later because I like it and want the characters to have more adventures. Enjoy!
> 
> P.S. The title is taken from the song "Lua" by Bright Eyes.

“I coulda’ at least helped. It is _my_ couch after all,” Steve huffed, closing the door to his new apartment with his foot as Clint and Sam sat the couch down with matching grunts. 

The couch was an over-stuffed green monstrosity with a pullout bed under the cushions, making it even heavier than the average hideous couch. Natasha had wrinkled her pert nose in disgust when she saw it in the back of the trailer, immediately giving him a laundry list of furniture stores within a ten-mile radius. Steve had just rolled his eyes in exasperation at the meddling Alpha, pointedly picking up a box labeled ‘KITCHEN’ and stalking back toward the entrance to his apartment building.

“So you could have an asthma attack after 3 flights and get crushed by the damned thing? Hell nope; nuh-uh; not happening,” Sam replied flopping down on the couch before leaning his head over the arm and fixing him with a look when Steve started to argue. 

“Ugh, fine,” Steve conceded after a short stare-down with the Beta. “At least let me buy dinner for ya. Pizza sound good?” As Steve’s refrigerator and cupboards were currently empty, takeout was really the only option—not that Steve even knew how to cook even if he did have groceries, but that’s beside the point. 

“I’m always a slut for pizza,” Clint responded, opening the small red cooler on the kitchenette table and pulling out four iced beers. 

“You’re a slut for a lot of things,” Natasha commented, sidling up behind her Omega and planting a kiss behind his ear, mindful of his hearing aid. The blond laughed in affirmation and handed his bondmate a beer, tilting his head to the side when Natasha subtly scented his bond bite. 

“Ya’ll nasty,” Sam declared, his nose wrinkling up in disgust. Natasha’s green eyes glinted in Sam’s direction, a sharp smile on her full red lips as she gracefully flipped him off in return causing Sam to squawk indignantly. Clint snorted, beer shooting out of his nose down the front of his purple shirt and spraying Natasha in the face.

“Aw, beer, no,” Clint said mournfully to the dark patch forming on his shirt.

“Alright, pizza should be here soon,” Steve announced walking back into the living area from the bedroom where he had left his phone while moving in. He paused in the threshold of the hallway, watching in amusement at the scene: Sam cackling on the floor with his arms wrapped around his stomach, having rolled off the couch in his mirth, Natasha’s shocked and disgusted look as she tries to wipe beer out of her short red hair before it got sticky, and Clint making the stain on his shirt worse by wiping his beer covered hand down it. Steve smiled, warmth filling his chest. Moving was the best idea he’s had in a long time. 

After his mother died of cancer the year before, he had found himself in a state of arrested development, a complete standstill in his life. Steve had finished art school in the city, doing internships and freelance work. He was on his way up in the art world when he got the devastating news that his mother was diagnosed with stage four pancreatic cancer. Steve dropped everything, moving back to Brooklyn and into his childhood home to support his mother. It had been especially hard on him to watch his once strong, Alpha mother slowly waste away to nothing. 

Steve found himself mindlessly barely making ends meet at his barely above minimum wage book store job, refusing to acknowledge the left over money from his mother’s life insurance policy (most of it having gone toward her funeral). Steve hadn’t realized how deep of a hole his depression had dug him into until his close friends from college showed up at his door; hadn’t realized that he had completely isolated himself from them.

He remembered being shocked when his doorbell rang out of the blue and he opened it to reveal Nat, Clint, and Sam standing on the porch. Then, like a punch to the chest, he suddenly realized he missed them so much. Nat’s razor sharp wit and equally sharp smile, her vivid red hair curling and shining in the sun; Clint’s soft hazel eyes that crinkle at the edges when he laughs, dimples showing in his cheeks and blond hair always in a perpetual bird’s nest; Sam’s handsome open and kind face that is always so expressive, and understanding temperament. He broke down for the first time since his mother had passed in his arms. 

Sitting on the monstrosity of a couch in his mother’s house, Natasha and Clint told Steve about their successful coffee shop in Bed Stuy that they had opened with Natasha’s degree in business and Clint’s love of baking. With shame, Steve realized that they had bonded and he had never congratulated them—never sent a gift or card, hell, didn’t even call or text them (then realized that he had let his cell service lapse and had somehow been operating without one for past year). And Sam had a job working as a line therapist at the local VA helping newly returned veterans with PTSD and social reintegration. More shame hit him when he thought of how stagnant he was compared to them, embarrassed that he let himself get left behind. He could tell they were worried about him, was aware of how disheveled and tired he looked, how much weight he had lost despite having already been underweight. 

He could see Clint and Nat having a silent conversation between themselves through eye contact, and minute expressions and gestures as Sam kindly talked to him about his bookstore job. So, he wasn’t at all surprised when a couple of days later, they asked him to move out to Bed Stuy to manage their coffee shop. At first Steve was angry, shame flaring in his chest at being a charity case his friends felt responsible for. He refused the offer, barricading himself again in his mother’s house. 

Another week passed before Steve came home from work to Clint sitting on his porch, bundled against the December cold in a worn black peacoat with matching knit purple scarf and gloves. Steve’s steps slowed as he approached, wary and still angry.

“I ain’t a charity case, Barton. I can look after myself,” Steve growled out, pushing his thick-framed glasses back up his nose toward his scowling brows. While riddled with tension, Steve kept his body language just on the underside of defensive. It was smart to send Clint rather than Natasha. Also being an Omega, Steve didn’t feel any pressure to submit or fight with him like Omegas often did with Alphas. 

“It ain’t charity, Steve. We really do need the help,” Clint said from his spot on the porch, purposefully putting himself in a more submissive role. “Me an’ Nat hardly have any time for each other an’ the only people wantin’ to work for us are college kids who quit every few months. We need someone we can count on to keep the place runnin’ if we aren’t there and who won’t leave us.”

Steve couldn’t help but to flinch. He had done exactly that after his mom had died. Completely abandoned them, dropped them from his life as if they were nothing. Steve felt his resolve cracking a bit at Clint’s continued friendship and faith in him.

“And, I know you can take care ‘a yourself Steve; you’re the scrappiest li’l shit I ever met,” Clint said with a chuckle, eyes crinkling in the corners before a concerned look came over his features. “But, Steve, pal, we’re worried about ya. We know you been havin’ a hard time, and the reason behind it is understandable,” Clint said quickly when Steve scowled again and opened his mouth to argue. Clint looked up at the sky and huffed out a breath, visible in the cold air. 

“Steve, I’m worried about ya’. From Omega to Omega.” Clint lifted his eyes back to Steve’s, shining with genuine concern. “It’s dangerous for an unbonded Omega to live alone without bein’ in an Omega only community or buildin’. I know you’re a fighter, an’ the most stubborn, hard-headed person I ever met, but that don’t mean shit to the wrong kind of Alpha on the wrong day.” Clint’s face was hard when he finished his statement. Steve knew that Clint had had a bad experience of some kind with an Alpha in his past, though Steve never pried nor did Clint offer anything about it either. Even the way that Natasha and Clint interacted in their relationship was unique in it’s own way because their roles were fluid around each other. 

Steve doesn’t want to admit to the times where he had a few close calls when he was in pre-heat. Learning to take back ways through people’s back yards to avoid places where Alpha’s liked to loiter after being followed home a couple of times. Once he had made it to his home, the lingering smell of his mother’s Alpha scent would usually cause the Alphas to go away, thinking he already had an Alpha waiting to sate his heat. Even though there were laws against sexually assaulting—or assault of any kind really—an Omega, Alphas more often than not got away with it even if the Omega did decide to press charges.

“What would your ma say if she saw ya like this? Ya know she wouldn’t a’ wanted you to live like this.” It was a low blow, and Clint knew it. He set his jaw, eyes blazing as they bore into Steve. And, goddamnit, Steve knew he was right, knew his ma would be so sad and disappointed that he’d let him do this to himself.

They stared at each other, a battle of wills. Steve running on stubbornness that was slowly cracking at the look of concern and experience reflected in Clint’s eyes. Steve finally deflated, thinking of his ma, and letting a breath out in a long rush. 

“Fine. I’ll do it,” Steve said in a low, catching voice. Clint smiled and whooped as he jumped up from the porch and wrapped Steve in a tight embrace, lifting him off his feet. Steve barked out a wet laugh and hugged Clint just a fiercely.

Steve ends up falling absolutely in love with the coffee shop. It was tucked into a little corner building a couple of blocks from Steve’s Omega only apartment building. The inside was open industrial and rustic with mismatched cozy couches covered in fluffy throw pillows, and an assortment of overstuffed chairs fitting together between small coffee tables. The counters were made of a dark wood coming up to Steve’s chest with glass cases filled with pastries, breads, cakes, and Clint’s daily specialty pies. Steve’s job as manager allowed him the freedom to do multiple jobs in one day, flitting from the espresso machine to the pastry displays, then doing office duties like ordering, invoices, and scheduling. The constant change of duty helped to keep Steve from falling back into the mindless routine that went hand in hand with depression, kept his mind and body too occupied to dwell on the gaping loss of his mother.

After a few months, the pain was no longer unbearable or crushing. Steve laughed more often and more freely, started going out with Sam, Nat, and Clint more. He even noticed the change in his scent, no longer acrid with underlying sadness. Most importantly, he found that he was working his way toward a life that his ma would have been happy to see him living. 

“Hey, Steve!” Steve turned from the pastry case where he was adding his hand-stenciled placards to the pastries of the day toward Clint whose head was poking out of the kitchen door. “Can ya run this order to Stark’s across the street? I was gonna get Peter to do it, but he’s runnin’ a bit late today.”

“That kid really needs to buy an alarm clock,” Steve said, rolling his blue eyes in fond exasperation. “Yeah, I got it.”

“You’re the best pal a guy could have,” Clint replied batting his eyelashes at Steve and pulling a huge box out from behind the door. “My hero!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, alright,” Steve huffed, pushing his too long bangs out of his eyes and grabbing the box of pastries from Clint’s hands. The purple box was so big, it looked comical being held by Steve’s petite frame. 

“When ya get there, go through the side garage entrance,” Clint intoned, already closing the swinging door to the kitchen. 

Normally, the shop didn’t do deliveries, but Clint explained that Stark’s Garage had been a big support since their opening, sending customers their way while they were waiting for their cars to get fixed and ordering pastries for their mechanic crew everyday. 

Steve had never met Stark, owner and proprietor of the garage, but he’d heard from both Nat and Clint that he was a genius—an annoying, insane, but well-meaning genius. Coming around the side of the building, Steve could hear the sound of music, laughter, metallic clanking, and the loud whine of drills before he even made it to the entrance. He paused for a second, balancing the box between his upper arm and hip and quickly lowered the volume significantly on the hearing aid in his left ear, before continuing his way toward the open garage doors. Walking through the threshold, he took in his surroundings quickly, scanning the shop for someone he thought might fit the ‘obnoxious genius with a heart of gold’ bill, which was quite challenging considering everyone working there seemed to look the same: large, muscular, gray coveralls covered in grease—basically everything Steve’s wet dreams were made of. 

Steve continued to look around uncomfortably, debating on his next move when he felt a light touch on his left shoulder. Snapping his head to the side, he was met with one of the most devastating human beings he had ever seen. Dark hair pulled into a messy bun with tendrils escaping haphazardly around a chiseled face with high cheekbones, straight nose, and red naturally pouty lips perched atop a strong chin with a charmingly deep cleft. Steve continued to stare at those lips until he realized that they were actually moving, talking to him in fact. Flicking his gaze up in surprise he met eyes the color of the sky before a storm, framed by long dark lashes and dark brows drawn down in concern.

“Oh, shit! Sorry! Are you talking to me?” Steve finally managed to blurt out loudly, then mentally face-palming himself when the guy’s eyebrows shot up toward his hairline and his head jerked back from him. 

“Sorry, sorry!” Steve apologized turning his body to angle his right ear toward the man and accidentally crowding into his personal space. Steve was suddenly very aware of just how stacked the guy was with a broad chest and large muscular arms, his coveralls stretched obscenely tight. Over the general smell of grease, sweat, and metal, Steve managed to catch a whiff of the man’s spicy scent, definitely Alpha: a combination of pine and leather something akin to the air before it rains, and the hint of apple.

“You okay there pal?” The man asks in concern, his brows drawing in again in slight confusion.

“Oh, uh, yeah. I just turned my hearin’ aid down real low ‘cause of the machinery an’ didn’t hear ya. Gotta talk into this one over here, it’s my good ear,” Steve rambled, pointing to his right ear and chuckling awkwardly, his face and the tips of his ears heating up with embarrassment. God, he needed to get a grip… Or laid….

The guy’s steel grey eyes widened when they spotted his hearing aid and cursed quietly. “Sorry, didn’t even notice, my bad,” he replied, his gloved left hand coming up to rub the back of his neck, the apples of his cheeks turning pink with embarrassment.

Steve watched in aroused fascination as the man blushed before him, his eyes casting down and to the side and licking his bottom lip in a way that hinted at being a nervous tic. 

“I’m, uh, from Barton’s Café? I have a pastry order?” Steve lifted the box in his hands up and tried to give him his best winning smile. In spite of the statements sounding like questions and feeling like an utter moron, Steve gave himself a mental high-five when the guy’s red lips quirked up into a grin.

“Barton’s? Fuck yeah!” A loud male voice called, echoing through the space, before a giant man stepped into view. He was just as well muscled as the first guy, but taller and perhaps a bit older with some grey peppered in with his short dark hair. Obviously another Alpha, the man’s scent was almost indiscernible from the other smells of the garage if not for the added smell of sandalwood and the sting of constant underlying aggression.

“Yer not the usual delivery boy,” he said in a naturally gravelly voice, his eyes slowly raking up Steve’s body. Steve could feel his hackles rising with each passing second that the new Alpha’s eyes spent ogling him.

“No, I’m not. And I ain’t no _boy_ either,” Steve shot back eyes hard, his anger rising at being infantilized by the Alpha. 

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Rumlow. Yer mother ain’t ever teach you any manners?” The first Alpha—the one Steve absolutely does _not_ have a crush on—snapped, pushing Rumlow in the shoulder roughly. Rumlow just laughed boisterously in return. 

“C’mon, Barnes lighten up! Have ta look at yer ugly mug all day, gotta grab somethin’ sweet when I can,” Rumlow replied easily, smirking and winking as he reached a hand toward the pastry box. Steve’s hand struck out quickly and smacked the Alpha’s hand when it macd contact with the box lid. 

“You a fan a’ sweet things?” Steve asked a shocked Rumlow, voice saccharine and smile sharp. “That’s good ‘cause this whole box is goin’ down yer throat if ya pull that shit again.” Steve’s voice dropped the falsely sweet in favor of a growl, his body tensing for a fight not caring that he was taking on an Alpha three times his size. Rumlow’s responding low rumbling growl and body moving into a posturing position sent a shiver of panic through Steve’s Omega hindbrain at the possibility of an Alpha attack, making his resolve harden even further.

“Rumlow! Go get Stark an’ cool off in the office,” Barnes demanded, his voice like steel and his eyes just as hard as he shifted his solid weight between the Alpha and Omega glaring each other down. “Now.” He sounded dangerous, violence tightly coiled behind his granite visage. 

Rumlow’s glare moved from Steve’s livid eyes to Barnes’ hard face then back again, partly waiting for Steve to submit or Barnes to posture as well to claim the Omega. When the pair did neither, Rumlow let out a sneering chuckle and dropped his posture.

“Sure thin’, boss,” Rumlow replied with a mocking sloppy salute then canted his eyes back to Steve. “See ya ‘round, Sugar.” The grin he gave was just short of feral, a challenge shining in his eyes. Steve’s responding snarl was cut short when a gloved hand gently pressed against his chest, so large it spanned almost the entire width from shoulder to shoulder. 

“He ain’t worth it, trust me. Rumlow’s always tryin’ to stir shit up. Don’t let him get to ya,” Barnes said calmly, pulling his hand away from Steve’s chest and taking a step back from him. Steve missed the warmth immediately, though he wouldn’t dare admit it. And he also wouldn’t admit how endearing Barnes was when he gave Steve an assessing smile while tucking a strand of thick dark hair behind his ear. Trying to mask his embarrassing aroused blush, Steve just puffed his chest out and held his scowl resolutely.

“I’m Bucky, Bucky Barnes. And, you’re a troublemaker ain’t ya?” Bucky said, chuckling and holding his hand out for Steve to shake. Normally, Steve would assume he was making fun of him, but Bucky’s smile was genuine. Slowly, he relaxed the tension from his body and adopted a small grin.

“Uh, I’m Steve, ah, Rogers,” Steve replied oh-so eloquently, blushing like mad and shaking Bucky’s hand quickly. Bucky’s resulting megawatt smile was worth feeling like an absolute idiot, seeing his grey eyes crinkle at the corners and his nose scrunching up at the bridge. Before Bucky could respond, a new voice echoed around them, Steve tensing up again with a full body wince.

“Blondie, is that you? So you’re the one causing a ruckus in my garage, huh? Can’t say I’m surprised!” Steve let out a pained groan as he turned toward the loud brunet Beta stomping toward them. 

“You’re Stark?” Steve demanded, eyes bulging and eyebrows hitting his hairline in shock. 

“You two know each other?” Bucky asked, one eyebrow lifting questioningly.

“This is the little shit I’ve been telling you about that’s been misspelling my name and making my coffee wrong on purpose for the past few months,” Stark said off-handedly, pointing his wrench in Steve’s direction and stroking down his elaborate goatee with the other. “You’d think someone who knew how to spell ‘frappuccino’ would know how to spell ‘Tony.’”

“You started it with all that ‘Blondie’ shit,” Steve accused, pointing a finger in Tony’s face, not even trying to deny it. Tony stared at Steve’s finger before snapping his teeth together, trying to bite it. Steve squawked in indignation, pulling his finger back.

“Oh my God, of course ya are,” Bucky crowed, laughing uncontrollably. “I’m a big fan of your work. The day you drew a big toe and a knee on the side of his cup is my personal favorite.” Bucky’s eyes were filled with mirth and genuineness, one hand pressed to his heart as he bowed to Steve with respect. Steve blushed and huffed a breath of air out, puffing his shaggy bangs out of his rolling eyes though he was secretly pleased with Bucky’s praise. Tony gasped overdramatically, hand splaying across his chest as if wounded.

“Don’t forget who writes your checks, Barnes!” Tony threatened waggling the wrench in his direction. 

“I would never Mr. Stark,” Bucky answered in a falsetto voice, batting his eyelashes in the direction of his boss. Steve was suddenly hit with the strong sting of jealousy at Bucky’s easy flirting.

“Alright, here’s your pastries,” Steve said rudely, shoving the box into Tony’s arms. “If I don’t get back, Clint’ll assume the worst and send Nat for me,” Steve said rolling his eyes and smiling affectionately thinking about his over protective friends. 

“Oh sweet baby Jesus, please leave! That woman is terrifying. And not even in your basic I’m-an-Alpha-and-I’ll-kick-your-ass way—no offence Buckybear—but more like a ‘I must break you’ Russian assassin way,” Tony said, eyes wide as he turned Steve’s shoulder and manhandled him toward the garage door opening. 

Steve craned his head back toward Bucky to say goodbye, catching a strange look on his face. His eyebrows were drawn down in a furrow and lips pulled into a small frown, the look in his eyes unreadable. 

“Uh, nice to meet ya Buck! See you around?” Steve cringed and mentally kicked himself at the nickname slip. The troubled look on Bucky’s face disappeared, replaced with an easy grin.

“Yeah, see ya Stevie,” he replied, his gloved hand tucking a tendril of hair behind his ear and teeth pulling on his bottom lip to hide his widening smile.

“Bye Tommy,” Steve added sassily, shooting Tony a feral grin as he stepped out of the garage. The resulting insulted overdramatic gasp from Tony and the loud cackling laugh from Bucky had Steve smiling uncontrollably for the rest of the day.

The next day, Steve was simultaneously sad and relieved when Peter made it to his shift in time to deliver Stark’s daily pastries. The night before, Steve had had dreams filled with full red lips and eyes like the sea in a storm. It was a little disconcerting to him how intense this crush became so quickly. Not that Steve was a blushing virgin in any capacity, far from it in fact, but it had been a while since his libido was anywhere near existent outside of his heats. He was also suddenly painfully aware that he wasn’t the most sought after Omega, his illnesses and disabilities usually seen as not the best breeding stock. Steve’s face twisted in a wry smile as he cleaned the espresso machine, knowing that his dreams of Bucky were always going to remain that way—just dreams.

Sighing to himself for the millionth time that day, Steve turned back toward the pastry cases to check their stock levels when someone clearing their throat caused him to snap his attention toward the register. Steve could instantly feel his face heat up and his heart swell in his chest when he met those steel blue eyes that had him tossing and turning all night long. Bucky’s mouth was turned up in his signature grin, though he seemed to be uncomfortable standing in the small café in his grease stained coveralls, his right hand pushing through his thick dark hair to get it to behave. 

“Hey Buck,” Steve greeted with a grin, trying to play it cool though he knew he was failing spectacularly. Bucky’s tongue swept across his full bottom lip—definitely a nervous tic—making heat pool low in Steve’s belly.

“Hiya Stevie,” he replied back easily, his eyes crinkling with his widening smile. Steve hated that nickname growing up, but coming from Bucky it was quite endearing. 

“What are you doin’ here? Somethin’ wrong with the pastries this mornin’?” Steve asked in confusion, eyebrows furrowing in concern. 

“Oh, no! Nothin’ like that,” Bucky quickly assured, making Steve relax in relief. Bucky leaned in toward Steve’s face, eyes looking around suspiciously. Steve subconsciously leaned forward as well. “I, ah, heard the coffee here was pretty good,” he said in a conspiratorial tone before adding, “and that the barista was quite the spitfire,” with a wink. Steve could feel the tips of his ears heating up and a flush spreading on his cheeks as he leaned toward Bucky even more, feeling the Alpha’s breath ghost across his face.

“I heard he can throw a pretty mean right hook too,” Steve said playing along, eye’s widening as if sharing a particularly nasty piece of gossip.

“Oh, I don’t doubt that.” Bucky laughed, eyes crinkling and nose scrunching in a way that made Steve’s heart melt inside his ribcage. They both smiled at each other as if sharing a secret, continuing to make prolonged eye contact.

“So, what can I get ‘cha?” Steve asked finally, straightening back up but not breaking their shared gaze.

“I’ll take a black coffee and a,” he pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket and squinted at the chicken scratch handwriting before adding, “vanilla low fat soy latte with extra foam.” Bucky made a disgusted face. “What the actual fuck did I just read?” Steve’s eyebrows rose at his confused tone.

“Tony sent his order with you?” Steve didn’t want to think of the implications of Bucky buying coffee for this man. “Low fat today, though. Compensatin’ for all them pastries?” He didn’t mean for it to come out so sharp, trying to soften it by throwing a chuckle over his shoulder while working the espresso machine. Bucky threw his head back and barked out a loud laugh, his hand flying to his chest. 

“Nah, his bondmate Pepper is makin’ him watch what he eats. He had heart surgery a coupla’ years back, scared the shit outta her. I think she’s just tryin’ to prevent somethin’ like that happenin’ again,” Bucky said, a soft smile on his face when talking about the couple. “She means well, but it annoys the shit outta him.” He rolls his eyes in fond exasperation, obviously a conversation he’s had to listen to repeatedly.

Steve couldn’t help the hope and happiness that welled up inside of him at hearing that Tony was bonded to someone else and that his and Bucky’s relationship was clearly platonic deep friendship. As he added the foam to the coffee concoction, he frowned.

“I’m sorry that happened to him. I almost feel bad for misspellin’ his name and fuckin’ with his coffee all this time. Almost,” Steve adds, over his shoulder with a mischievous smirk and popping a lid on the coffee cup. Steve grabs a sharpie from the supplies cup by the registers and scribbles an elegant ‘Tonya’ across the side. He sets it on the counter in front of Bucky and immediately turns around to pour Bucky’s black coffee. His smile widens when he hears the husky chuckle from Bucky reading the cup. He adds a lid to Bucky’s coffee, turning back around with a giant grin.

“Can’t let ‘im get away that easy,” he says with a wink and handing the coffee toward Bucky. Bucky just smiles wider in return, taking the coffee cup from him and letting their fingers brush. 

“I’d be disappointed if you did,” Bucky replied, eyes shining and tongue licking his lips again. He reached into the pocket of his coveralls, pulling out a ten-dollar bill and laying it on the counter. “See ya later, Stevie.” He takes both coffee cups into his hands—right one bare and left one wearing a glove Steve notices with interest—and walks backwards toward the door, not breaking eye contact and grinning widely.

“See ya Buck,” Steve replied, matching his smile with one of his own and watching him until he disappears out the door. As soon as the door closes, Steve sighs yet again.

“Um, Steve. What the hell was that?” Sam’s voice jolts Steve suddenly from his love-sick puppy daydreaming to find Clint, Nat, and Sam’s heads all leaning out of the kitchen door eyes wide and obviously having seen most, if not all of the exchange. 

“ _Who_ the hell was that?” Nat demanded, pushing her way out of the kitchen and crossing her arms in a way that Steve knew meant business.

“Was that…Barnes? From Stark’s?” Clint asked, flabbergasted his eyebrows rocketing toward his hairline and eyes bulging comically wide. 

“You know him?” Nat and Sam both asked at the same time, whirling around to Clint.

“Well, yeah… he works for Stark. Met ‘im a coupla times runnin’ the pastries over. Nice guy,” Clint admits, shrugging his shoulders before looking at Steve thoughtfully. Nat cuts him a ‘we’re going to talk about this again later’ look that Clint smiles sheepishly at.

Sam let out a low whistle before breaking out into a huge smile and waggling his eyebrows at Steve. Steve groaned painfully in return, pinching the bridge of his nose under his glasses with his fingers and squeezing his eyes shut.

“Don’t. Do not. I swear to all that is holy, Sam,” Steve warns through gritted teeth making Sam chuckle in return at seeing Steve’s blush traveling down his neck and toward his chest.

“Gonna climb that like a tree, huh Rogers?” Sam ribbed, grinning wide and elbowing Steve in the side. Steve let out another loud groan and slammed his forehead down onto the countertop. “And I mean, _climb_ ‘cause goddamn, son!”

“Umm… can I get a chocolate chip muffin, uh, please?” An unsure female voice asked from above Steve. Steve let out a string of muffled grumbles, reaching his hand down into the case and grabbing a muffin and plopping it down on the counter in front of him without lifting his head. Natasha finished the sale, scraping together enough professionalism to not run the girl off entirely. It wasn’t surprising in any way that Steve spent the rest of his work day with his forehead attached to the counter, his friends prying and teasing him mercilessly.

The dreams only became more intense as the days passed, so vivid that Steve woke up swearing he could still taste apple on his tongue and the scent of fresh rain on his skin. They were so compelling, Steve found himself on his day off digging through the only unpacked box hidden in the farthest corner of his closet labeled ‘ART SUPPLIES.’ 

Pulling out his worn charcoal set and a dusty sketchbook, he began sketching for the first time since his mother passed away, his hand flying over page after page. Before his eyes, pieces of Bucky began staring back at him: a whole page of full naturally pouty lips, stormy eyes reflecting various emotions, the shape of his strong jawline and dimpled chin in different profiles, and dark hair twisting and curling all over the page. It was as if a dam busted inside Steve as the familiar faces of Nat, Clint, and Sam began visualizing as well in vignette scenes from his new life. 

Steve didn’t realize he had been crying until tears splattered messily onto the page, shocking him out of his drawing frenzy. Pulling his glasses off and wiping his face with his hands quickly, Steve felt his body drain all of the tension he didn’t realize he was still carrying inside of him. Checking his phone, he was surprised to find he had been sketching for hours. His stomach grumbled at him as if it too only just became aware of the time that had passed. 

Making a detour by the bathroom on his way to the kitchen, Steve caught sight of himself in the mirror and froze. His hair was wild, eyes shining bright with unshed tears, cheeks red and puffy with charcoal streaked all over his face. Steve stared at his reflection for a long moment before he suddenly began laughing uncontrollably, making him look even crazier as tears began to track down his cheeks and smearing the charcoal. Leaning against his bathroom sink for support, he pulled in deep hiccupping breaths as his laughter subsided. For the first time in two years, he didn’t feel the crushing sadness settle over him. His heart felt full and his mind was calm, the combination of rediscovering his art and his emotional dam breaking having given him a catharsis he didn’t even know he needed. Maybe, he was going to be okay.

Bucky became a fixture at the café in the following months, coming in almost everyday to get coffee for himself and his boss, though they would get caught up talking so much that Tony’s coffee had to be more on the lukewarm side by the time Bucky finally pulled himself away from Steve and went back to work. The couple of hours after Bucky left always had Steve with a permanent smile quirking his lips and a flush across his cheeks, though Steve liked to blame that on his Omega hindbrain’s reaction to Bucky’s alluring Alpha scent and nothing to do with his crush. Okay, so that was a lie. Steve was fucked. Totally gone. He groaned and flopped his head onto the countertop with a resounding ‘thump.’

“I’m gonna outlaw a certain tall, dark, and handsome Alpha if I have to re-sand the counter t’get rid of that forehead sized dent ya been makin’ over there,” Clint said suddenly at his right, chuckling and tickling Steve in the ribs with one of his fingers.

“Fuck off, Barton,” Steve replied half-heartedly, smacking his hand away and giving him the finger though there was no real fire behind it.

“Oh, you got it bad,” Clint sing-songed, taking in Steve’s deepening blush and dazed look. Steve groaned in response, unconsciously dropping his head back onto the counter again. Clint cackled mercilessly as he ran back into the kitchen. Yeah, he was so fucked.

On his next day off, Steve found himself with nothing to do. The café hours basically conditioning any ability to sleep in past 9 am out of him, Steve had begrudgingly showered and dressed for the day before most people were even required to be at their jobs. Not really having any plans for the day, Steve decided to gather up his favorite sketchbook and pencils and make his way to the local park to do some sketching. 

The park was small, but nice. Trees lined the pathways were joggers and dog walkers ambled their way toward the other side of the park. A small playground was situated in the center of the park, abandoned for the most part save for a few laughing toddlers with adults chasing behind them. 

Steve sat under a tree on a small bench adjacent to the playground, sketching anything that caught his eye: a bluebird perched on the lip of a trashcan; a little girl with two big pigtails on either side of her head and the brightest smile; an old couple sitting on the bench across from him having a rest, holding hands and laughing quietly to each other, before finishing their exercise circuit; a young woman with long bright red hair wearing a dress with cats all over it and walking a giant white Great Pyrenees that came up to her hip. 

So absorbed in his art, Steve hadn’t even realized how much time had passed until his stomach growled loudly. Stretching the kinks out of his back and fingers, he packed his things up quickly, going in search of some lunch. He meandered his way away from the park, his feet automatically taking him on the familiar path toward the café. He stopped a block away from the café when he noticed a food truck parked on the side of the street in front of a row of clothing shop, and decided to give it a shot. After staring at the menu painted on the side of the truck, he stepped up to the window.

“What can I get for ya, pal?” A kind-faced man asked, leaning out of the window slightly and giving Steve a big smile. Steve’s lips quirked into a responding grin.

“Can I have a meatball sub with some pasta salad an’ a coke, please?” Steve ordered, reaching around toward his back pocket for his wallet.

“Good choice! Got tha best meatballs in Bed Stuy,” the vendor replied with a chuckle and a wink. “Anythin’ else?”

“Oh! Could I, ah, get two a’ those actually, please?” Steve asked spontaneously, thinking of the day Bucky had admitted his love for Italian cooking. 

“Sure thin’, pal. Comin’ right up!” After paying, Steve made his way determinedly toward Stark’s car shop before he could lose his nerve and run back to his apartment. Steve could feel the palm holding the bag of food sweating, and his heart picking up speed as he approached the opening of the garage door. Taking a deep breath, Steve turned his hearing aid down, and crossed the threshold into the shop. His eyes automatically began scanning the shop for Bucky’s familiar form, trying not to draw the attention of the other four mechanics onto him. 

Steve’s smile went from a nervous grimace to a genuine grin when he finally spotted Bucky walking out of a door at the side of the shop. His throat went dry at the sight of him: his coveralls were only half on, the arms wrapped around his hips and white tank clinging tightly to his muscular torso; his arms were raised, pulling his dark thick hair into a messy bun and showing off the bunching muscles of his thick arms; his face open and happy, laughing at whatever Tony was saying as they walked together. Steve was suddenly hit with the realization that Bucky’s left arm wasn’t at all flesh, but a mechanical creation compiled of what looked like multiple interlinking plates. It shined brightly as the sun’s natural light hit it through the opened garage doors, and Steve was completely mesmerized by it. _Oh, good lord._

Stark was the first to notice Steve standing there with his mouth gaping, eyes wide, and deep blush across his cheeks. Tony’s mouth twisted into a grin before turning to Bucky and saying something to him in a low voice. Bucky’s face turned confused for a second before snapping over toward Steve in surprise. Steve just smiled in return, holding up the take away bag of food in his hand and trying his best not to actually swoon like one of those Omegas from those cheesy Harlequin romance novels.

Bucky’s face morphed into a bright smile, then blushed and looked down when Tony said something into his ear. Bucky licked his lower lip before making eye contact again with Steve. He pointed to the doorway he had just walked through, head tilting in invitation as he turned and walked back through. Steve quickly scampered around the shop toward the doorway, ignoring the questioning glances being thrown his way and one glower from Rumlow. 

“Long time no see, Blondie,” Tony drawled as Steve passed by him. “Don’t make a mess of my break room. Keep it PG only!” He gave Steve a salacious grin, one hand on his hip and one finger waggling at him condescendingly. Steve just rolled his eyes and gave him the finger as he continued into the room, his brain only comprehending _Bucky Bucky Bucky_ to even formulate a witty response. And, judging by Tony’s responding cackles, that was pretty obvious. 

Steve walked into the break room, which was your basic break room except for the wall that had a row of lockers with each mechanic’s name printed on each one. He found Bucky at the sink washing his hands and mourned the fact that Bucky had shed the grease streaked coveralls for jeans and a long-sleeved red Henley, though he sent a prayer of thanks up to whatever god was up there at the tight fit as it strained across his large muscular back. It didn’t go unnoticed to Steve that he had chosen a long-sleeved shirt even though the shop was more on the warmer side and wondered if he didn’t want Steve to see the arm. But, Steve quickly let it go, wanting Bucky to do whatever he was most comfortable with. 

“Oh, how the tables have turned,” Steve joked walking up to the table and sitting down at one of the chairs closest to the sink before he began pulling the food out of the bag. Bucky laughed loudly in return as he dried his hands off with some paper towels and chose the seat directly to Steve’s right. Steve’s chest filled with warmth as he realized Bucky remembered which of his ears had the disability. 

“So, what’s this all about?” Bucky asked, quirking a brow and sweeping his hand over the food that Steve had unpacked and arranged on the table. Steve was hit with Bucky’s scent, making him dizzy and flustered. 

“I had the day off and figured it was my turn to visit this time,” Steve shrugged, trying to act cool and collected as the tips of his ears turned pink with a blush. “And, I remembered you said you liked Italian food, so…” Steve’s cheeks flushed and he ducked his head down as he started to unwrap his sandwich, but Bucky’s right hand covered his and stopped him. Steve snapped his head up, meeting his eyes.

“Thank you,” Bucky said sincerely, eyes shining in genuine happiness. He squeezed Steve’s hand then began to unwrap his sub as well. Steve noticed that he now had a leather glove on his left hand, but quickly averted his gaze. “And, I do love meatballs,” he joked, after seeing what was under the foil. Steve chuckled in response, heart feeling like it was going to burst from his chest. 

“So, what have ya been up to today? Ya know, besides feedin’ me,” Bucky asked, grinning around a big bite of meatball sub. Steve laughed, taking his own generous bite.

“Um, well, I went to the park near my place and sketched for a bit,” he answered shyly, spearing some pasta salad with his fork. 

“Really?” Bucky asked excitedly, his eyes brightening. “Can I see?”

Bucky knew that Steve loved art, had gone to school for it, but Steve had never shown him any of his pieces even on the days where Bucky came into the café to find Steve sketching in one of the comfy chairs next to the big windows. Steve was oddly nervous about Bucky’s opinion. Steve bit his lip, contemplating for a second before letting out a breath and digging through his bag for his sketchbook.

Opening his sketchbook to the sketches from the park, Steve handed the book over without meeting Bucky’s eyes, then dug back into his food. He was focused on picking out an olive with his fork when he heard Bucky gasp and quickly lifted his gaze to Bucky’s face.

“Shit, Stevie, these are amazin’!” He exclaimed, eyes wide as he flipped a couple of pages back and forth. He snapped his eyes to Steve’s. “I mean, I figured you were good, but…” he dropped his sentence in favor of a low whistle. 

“Um, thank you,” Steve said, chest preening at the praise from the Alpha, who Steve’s brain was currently screaming ‘ _my Alpha, mine_ ’ about. Needing a second to calm down his raging hormones, Steve made his way over to the sink to grab a few napkins. He took a deep breath yelling ‘ _not yours_ ’ in his head, then put a smile on his face and turned around before stopping dead in his tracks. 

To Steve’s absolute horror, Bucky had delved deeper into the back pages of the sketchbook and was currently staring at himself on the pages. One page was completely filled with full pouty lips and expressive eyes depicting a litany of emotions, the one opposite filled with Bucky’s body in various states of movement. The next page he flipped to was one of Steve’s favorites showing Bucky running a hand through his thick hair with a small smile on his face, eyes crinkling and nose scrunching. Bucky’s breath caught in an audible gasp, his head snapping up and toward Steve.

Steve just stood there, eyes wide with mortification and horror, waiting for Bucky’s disgust and rejection. 

“Bucky… I’m… I…” Steve’s voice broke, eyes stinging. He slammed his mouth shut, jaw and fists clinching in anger at himself for getting so upset. Bucky stared at him, as if he was a puzzle he was trying to figure out.

“Is this how you see me?” He finally asked, with a confused lilt to his voice and eyes dropping back down to the sketch and running his finger around the edge of the page delicately. Steve swallowed, then took a deep breath to rally his confidence.

“Yeah, Buck. You’re beautiful,” Steve answered quietly, cheeks flushing. He continued to stare at his shoes, afraid to see the look in Bucky’s eyes. Bucky’s continued silence made Steve feel suffocated, as if the room were closing in on him. He chanced a look up at Bucky and felt his stomach drop. Bucky’s brows were furrowed, a frown pulling his lips down. 

Like a punch to the gut, Steve was hit with the realization that Bucky was going to reject him, that Steve ruined everything and Bucky was never going to talk to him ever again. Steve’s chest started feeling tight, the swell of panic causing a roaring sound in his ears. 

“I gotta—I gotta…” Steve’s voice was harsh and breathless as he quickly grabbed his bag from the table and rushed out of the room, breaking into a run as soon as he cleared the threshold. The roaring in his ears got louder, his breathing became harsher, but he continued to run blindly. 

Next thing he knew, he was sitting on his apartment floor, back against his door as his hand reached into his bag to find his emergency inhaler. It had been years since Steve had to use his inhaler thanks to modern medicine, steroids, and breathing treatments. After taking a couple of puffs off the inhaler, letting his lungs expand and release slowly, he finally broke down. Tears streamed down his warm face as he scrubbed his cheeks with his fists. 

Suddenly, he threw his bag and inhaler across the floor, his anger feeding off the satisfying crash as they hit the wall. With a cry of frustration, Steve turned around and punched the wall next to the door. Letting his temper get the best of him he continued to punch it until the plaster gave way.

“Fuck!” He yelled, pulling his fist from the hole, his knuckles scraped and skin broken. The anger and frustration drained from his body as he watched blood ooze from the cuts on his knuckles that would no doubt bloom with dark bruises. He pulled his glasses off, sighing as he rubbed his eyes with his undamaged hand. 

Feeling drained, Steve slowly pulled himself up off the floor, hissing in pain as he put weight on his injured hand. Numbly, Steve shuffled his way through the living room and into the bathroom, opening the cabinet under the sink and pulling out the first aid kit his mother had made for him so many years ago, though over the years he’d had to replenish the supplies more times than he was willing to admit. He turned on the tap and ran his hand under the cold water, washing away the bits of dirt and plaster than clung to the broken skin. After drying his hand off, he got to work putting ointment on the raw, open skin and then wrapping them up tightly with gauze. He carefully put the supplies back into the kit and placed it into the cabinet. 

In a daze, Steve slowly made his way into his bedroom, shucking off articles of clothing and letting them fall on the floor in a trail toward his bed. He crawled under his covers, taking comfort in the familiar scent of the detergent—the same brand his mother used when he was growing up—and falling into an emotionally exhaustive sleep.

He woke up hours later, groggy and disoriented. Looking toward his window, he could see that the sun was going down, and groaned as he reached over the side of his bed to grope through his pants pockets for his phone. Finally finding it, he quickly unlocked the screen, hissing and squinting his eyes against the brightness of the screen. After adjusting to the light he noticed the clock read 7:38 pm as he pulled up his messenger app. He quickly shot a text to Clint saying that he had come down with something and wouldn’t be able to come into the café the next day. He felt guilty for lying to Clint, but he really needed a day to wallow or he would be no good to anyone. Steve let out a relieved breath when he got Clint’s “that sux bro feel better” text accompanied by ten different emojis. Steve set his phone on the nightstand then burrowed back down into his bed.

One day off suddenly became two then three as Steve secluded himself in his apartment, wallowing in self-loathing and falling back into his depressive habits. Of course an Alpha like Bucky wouldn’t want an Omega like him—sick and weak. It’s what he’d dealt with his whole life, though Bucky’s rejection hurt worse than all of the others combined. His anger and embarrassment only grew when he realized that Bucky still had his sketchbook (to his immense mortification, most of the book was filled with depictions of Bucky himself) and was probably showing it off to his buddies at the shop, laughing at him. As soon as the thought crossed Steve’s mind, he chided himself. Though Bucky may have rejected him, he wasn’t cruel or mean. Which made the whole ordeal especially hard; it was easier when you could just hate someone for being an asshole and rejecting you.

On his fourth day of calling in sick, he began getting the worried spam texts from his friends. For the first time in his life, he was actually happy when he felt the effects of preheat. He was able to use it as an excuse to get the next week off while also explaining his previous days of illness. Unfortunately, this also meant that he would have to leave his apartment to get food to have during the duration of his heat. 

With a groan, Steve crawled out from beneath the safety of his covers and headed toward the bathroom to take his first shower since the incident. He showered quickly and efficiently, not even sparing himself a glance into the mirror when he was finished, not wanting to actually see that he looked like shit. He knew he did in his mind, but actually having to face that reality in the mirror, well, that was a whole different thing entirely. 

He pulled on some jeans, a tee shirt, and a sweater without really caring if they matched. While in his closet, he went ahead and pulled out the box labeled ‘BEDROOM’ with ‘for a good time ;)’ written under it in Clint’s messy scrawl that held all of his heat toys and placed it next to the bed. Better to be safe than sorry, as he wasn’t exactly sure when his full heat would actually hit. He’d been on birth control for most of his life, helping to keep his heat cycles on time and regular, but while it helped give him a stable window of time for his heat, he could never predict when his full heat would start. With a sigh, Steve grabbed his phone, wallet, and keys and made his way to the small 24-hour mart on the next block over. 

He had almost made it to the store when he felt himself get pulled into an alley by the back of his sweater. His back hit the bricks of the building when someone pushed him roughly. He looked up into the face of an Alpha man with dark hair and dark eyes, his grin sharp as his arms caged him in on either side of his head. 

“Where ya headin’ smellin’ as good as ya do? Lookin’ for an Alpha to take ya home, and claim ya?” The man asked, leering into Steve’s space and blatantly smelling the scent gland in his neck. 

“Fuck off, asshole,” Steve replied rolling his eyes and pushing against the man’s chest.

“Yer the one advertisin’ baby. Walkin’ ‘round in preheat like that,” the Alpha man replied forcefully, not budging an inch. Steve was suddenly filled with fury.

“Fuck you! I can walk ‘round whenever I goddamn please, ya piece of shit,” Steve snarled, throwing a quick right hook into the guy’s jaw without any warning. The Alpha stumbled back, caught off guard at the sudden attack, but quickly regained his wits. With a growl, the Alpha postured, sending a shiver of fear up Steve’s spine, his Omega instincts yelling at him to run or submit.

Suddenly, Steve was being pushed back into the wall again as a familiar form blocked the Alpha from Steve’s view. Bucky’s muscles were coiled, ready for a fight as he postured back at the opposing Alpha. 

“Leave right now or I’m callin’ the cops. Don’t take too kindly to harrassin’ Omegas ‘round these parts,” Bucky warned, voice coming out as a low growl that caused heat to pool in Steve’s belly. 

Both Alphas eyes darted toward Steve, whose face flushed with embarrassment as he realized they could smell his aroused reaction to Bucky’s voice. The opposing Alpha sized up Bucky then looked back at Steve before relaxing out of his posture, accepting Bucky’s claim.

“Eh, ain’t even worth the effort,” the Alpha said before quickly making a break for it while trying to retain some shred of his dignity. 

Steve slumped in relief against the side of the building. Bucky turned around, looking Steve over with concern.

“You okay?” He asked, brows furrowed and mouth pulled into a frown.

“I’m fine,” Steve huffed, wiping the sweat accumulating across his brow.

“You’re not fine,” Bucky stated, grabbing Steve’s hand and looking at the newly reopened skin, bloody and bruised. Steve was finding it hard to think with Bucky’s scent filling his senses, pine and leather and apples—comfort, protection, mine. Steve shook his head.

“Let me fix ya up, yeah?” Steve shut his eyes tightly at the soft, placating and concerned tone Bucky was using. Made his heart break into a million pieces before fitting back together and shattering all over again.

“Ya don’t have to,” Steve ground out, turning his face away, fighting off both the urge to kiss him or cry.

“Stevie,” Bucky said softly, so close his breath brushed against Steve’s cheek. “Sweetheart,” the endearment dropped off of Bucky’s tongue, wormed its way into Steve’s heart. Steve’s eyes flew open, looking up and meeting Bucky’s stormy grey gaze in shock. 

“You don’t even realize, do ya?” He whispered, voice tinged with sadness his right hand reaching up and softly tracing it down Steve’s cheekbone, thumb brushing his full lower lip. Bucky’s pupils were blown with lust, but also something else shining back at him as he looked at Steve as if he were the most precious thing he’d ever seen.

“Oh,” Steve’s eyes widened at his words. _Bucky liked him._

“Yeah, oh,” Bucky answered, pouty mouth pulling into a small smile. Steve reached a hand up Bucky’s chest and grabbed a fistful of his shirt.

“You like me,” Steve stated in astonishment.

“I more than like ya, punk,” Bucky huffed in fond exasperation, cradling the back of Steve’s head tenderly.

“Then kiss me, jerk,” Steve demanded breathlessly, pulling Bucky down by the shirt until their lips met in a fierce kiss. Bucky’s lips were just as Steve had dreamed all those nights, red like a freshly bloomed rose and just as soft. One of Steve’s hands stayed firmly twisted into the fabric of Bucky’s shirt, as if he would disappear at any moment, while the other snaked up and into Bucky’s thick hair. 

The smell of Bucky’s arousal hit him, pulling a whine out of his throat without his permission. Bucky pulled back from Steve with a low rumbling growl, the grey of his eyes just a small ring around his blown pupils, his lips slick from spit and swollen red. The loss of contact ripped another embarrassing whine from him again, though Steve really couldn’t find it within himself to care, his brain screaming ‘ _mine, Alpha, mine, Bucky, mine_ ' over and over. To appease the distressed Omega, Bucky leaned in close to his throat and nosed at the scent gland just under Steve’s jaw, scenting and marking him. Steve’s head fell back against the brick wall behind him, eyes rolling into the back of his head at the sensation. His knees almost buckled completely when he felt Bucky’s tongue dart out across the swollen gland.

“We need to get ya home, Stevie. Not safe for ya,” Bucky murmured, though he didn’t move away from Steve’s body and continued to scent him thoroughly. 

“Not my place—Omega only; no unbonded Alphas allowed. Your place,” Steve managed to object breathily, arching his neck to expose his throat to Bucky in submission. Bucky growled in satisfaction at the display, his Alpha hindbrain extremely pleased with his Omega. 

Suddenly, Bucky’s mouth was gone, cold air hitting Steve’s exposed and glistening throat making him shiver. His eyes snapped open in confusion to find Bucky staring at him, a torn look on his face. 

“You’re in heat, sweetheart. Don’t wanna take advantage or make ya do somethin’ you’ll regret later,” Bucky explained in a soft low voice his hands—one with work roughened skin and one encased in a leather glove—resting on either side of Steve’s face, making him look him in the eyes, and thumbs gently stroking his flushed cheeks. Steve’s heart filled with warmth at the tender sincerity shining on Bucky’s face.

“Not in full heat, yet Buck. Gettin’ there pretty quick,” Steve assured with a chuckle, grabbing Bucky’s hand that wasn’t wearing the glove from his face and turning a kiss into his rough palm. “No one tells me what t’ do, Bucky Barnes, heat or no heat.” Steve’s eyes flashed with stubborn ire as he met Bucky’s gaze, leaning in close enough that their noses touched. “Take me, Alpha.” 

It wasn’t a statement of submission but a challenge, daring Bucky to take him home and make him his. Bucky’s gaze darkened, a growl welling up in his chest at the Omega’s words and fiery disposition. Bucky’s arm was suddenly around Steve’s shoulders, pulling him flush into the Alpha’s side as he began to guide them back out onto the street. Steve, so lost in their little world, had forgotten they were out in public during the middle of the day and flushed in embarrassment at the possibility that someone could have caught them in the alley. Bucky grinned salaciously at him, as if being able to read his mind and pulled Steve closer to kiss his temple. 

Distracted by Bucky’s close proximity, Steve barely paid attention to where they were heading until he recognized they were on the block behind Stark’s shop. Steve had often admired the quaint houses that lined the street during some of his exploring walks around the area. He was shocked when Bucky pulled the little iron fence open to one of the houses, painted white with dark blue shutters and vines of ivy climbing up the sides like fingers delicately cradling a precious treasure. Steve wanted to stop and admire the house, tell Bucky how beautiful it was, but the fire rapidly clawing it’s way up his spine and the slick soaking his pants didn’t give him much choice in the matter. Instead, Steve grabbed Bucky’s face and pulled him down into a heated kiss, pouring everything he wanted to say into it. Somehow, Bucky managed to unlock the door and get them inside while Steve continued the assault, teeth nipping at his full lips and tongue delving hotly into his mouth. Bucky growled, breaking the kiss after a particularly stinging bite.

“Just what I thought: a troublemaker,” he teased, eyes blazing as he took in Steve’s thoroughly debauched look. 

“Ya gonna talk all day or are ya gonna fuck me?” Steve snapped back with a growl of his own. Bucky crashed back into him, lifting Steve up as if he weighed nothing and began up a flight stairs. Steve quickly clamped his legs around Bucky’s waist, arms wrapping around his strong muscular shoulders as if holding on for dear life. 

Steve’s senses were overwhelmed with Bucky’s scent, so much stronger in his home. He felt drunk off the spicy scent of Bucky’s arousal mixed with the smell of air before a storm and earthy pine as Bucky gently rested him onto his bed. Steve’s eyes opened slowly, looking up at Bucky through his lashes from his position on the bed. They were hit simultaneously with the importance of this moment, the intimacy of the bedroom and the next step in their relationship. The tension between them was pulled taut like a bow, both on the precipice but waiting for the other to take aim and release. Keeping eye contact, Steve steeled his courage and slowly pushed his hands up Bucky’s torso, over his hard chest until he pushed his leather jacket off his shoulders. It slid to the floor with a muffled ‘thud’ breaking the silence and the tension. 

They began scrambling to take each other’s clothes off, hands pulling and tugging everywhere. Steve ran his hands under Bucky’s navy Henley, pulling the material up over Bucky’s head before tossing it somewhere in the depths of the bedroom and then raking his gaze over Bucky’s naked muscular torso. Every inch of golden flesh was even better than Steve had ever dreamed, muscles twitching and bunching under Steve’s light touches. Steve hesitated a moment when he reached Bucky’s left shoulder. Up close, Steve could see major scarring to the skin around the shoulder joint. 

The arm itself was beautiful; attached to the shoulder as if it were a natural part of Bucky, though with the fluidity in which Bucky moved with it, he almost was convinced that maybe it was. Steve tentatively touched the marred flesh gently before sweeping his fingers over the shoulder and down the bicep, the plates shifting and recalibrating under his touch. Bucky pulled in a gasping breath causing Steve to snap his eyes back up to his face. His face was pinched, eyebrows furrowed and mouth in a frown, a mirror of the look he had on his face when he’d discovered Steve’s sketches. 

“Did I hurt you?” Steve whispered hand still lightly perched on the inside of Bucky’s elbow.

“No,” Bucky quickly assured before flitting his eyes to the side, “It’s just… I don’t….” he huffed in frustration, cutting off whatever he was about to say. 

“I already told ya, you’re beautiful,” Steve said with conviction, eyes flaring, “all of you.” His fingers traveled down Bucky’s forearm before reaching his hand. He pulled the hand toward his face, kissing each cool finger before sucking one of the digits into the heat of his mouth. Bucky gasped then groaned as Steve’s tongue swirled around the finger, keeping his eyes locked onto Steve’s face. The finger didn’t have a metallic taste like Steve thought it would, just spicy and tangy with at hint of apple like the rest of Bucky.

“Fuck, Stevie. Sweetheart, gonna make me knot right here if ya don’t watch out.” Bucky’s voice came out husky with lust, and some deeper emotion that Steve couldn’t quite put his finger on. Steve pulled the digit out of his mouth with a wet pop leaving both his mouth and Bucky’s finger glistening. Steve slowly pulled his soaked underwear down his legs before crawling into the middle of the bed, purposefully avoiding Bucky’s intense gaze. He dropped his forearms onto the bed, arching his back with his ass up in the air; doing something he’d never done before, and presented himself to the Alpha. Though, because he was Steve Rogers the most stubborn little shit to ever come out of Brooklyn, he didn’t drop his head and bare the back of his neck in submission. 

“Alpha,” Steve said breathily. His fiery lust-filled gaze stared at Bucky from over his shoulder, one eyebrow cocked in a challenge. Bucky let out a low growl at the display, eyes darkening as his tongue slowly swept across his bottom lip in a way that drove Steve absolutely insane with want. Steve watched with rapt attention as Bucky pushed his boxerbriefs down and stepped out of them, revealing his heavy flushed cock. Steve’s mouth went completely dry, groaning at the sight of it already aroused and wanting, his hole releasing another wave of warm slick. 

“Oh, darlin’, look at ya. Sittin’ so pretty for me,” Bucky murmured, climbing onto the bed and crawling toward Steve slowly—like a predator stalking his prey. Steve felt his heart rate pick up in anticipation, his own cock hardening even more. 

“I bet ya taste so good, sweetheart. Taste just as good as ya look.” Bucky was at Steve’s back, so close, but not touching. Steve’s limbs trembled in anticipation, his head dropping down into the cradle of his arms on the bed, waiting as slick continued to leak out of his aching hole. 

A scream was wrenched from Steve’s throat when he felt Bucky’s hot tongue take a long swipe from just under his balls up to his entrance. Bucky shushed him tenderly, gently running his hands up the sides of Steve’s thighs to steady him. 

“Buck,” Steve whimpered, cool air hitting the combination of slick and spit causing him to shiver.

“Stevie,” Bucky responded reverently before pulling Steve’s cheeks apart with his large calloused hands and diving back in. He licked and mouthed at Steve’s slick hole, loosening up the tight ring of muscle with every thrust of his tongue. Steve writhed under his ministrations, whimpering and spouting nonsense as fire continued to pool in his belly. 

Adding a thick finger into Steve’s loosened hole, he began slowly fucking Steve with it as he continued to lick. Steve cried out Bucky’s name when a particular twist of Bucky’s wrist caused his finger to graze against his prostate. Quickly working in another finger, Bucky found his sweet spot again and began thrusting against it. Steve could feel himself getting closer and closer to the precipice, muscles stiffening with tension.

“C’mon sweetheart, let go for me. You gonna come for me, Stevie?” Bucky cooed encouragingly, continuing to assault Steve’s prostate. “Bet ya look so pretty when ya come. Just let go for me, sweetheart.” With those word’s Steve’s body went impossibly still before crying out in release, legs shaking and gripping the covers tightly in his fisted hands. Bucky milked Steve’s orgasm, whispering encouragement in undulating tones. Finally, Steve’s body quit shaking and slumped boneless onto the bed. His eyelashes fluttered as he slowly came back into his body in post-orgasmic bliss. Bucky slowly removed his glistening fingers, sticking them into his mouth and licking them clean.

“Jesus, so fuckin’ beautiful Stevie. So good for me, sweetheart,” Bucky praised, running his hands delicately up Steve’s back and kissing each bump of his crooked spine. “Taste so good, even better than I dreamed. Gonna take real good care of ya.” The words were whispered into the skin of Steve’s neck, his breath ghosting across Steve’s cheek. Steve rolled over in Bucky’s arms, face flushed and eyes blissed out. 

Bucky grinned down at him, his longish hair falling around his face in a dark curtain. Steve’s hand reached up slowly and ran his fingers through the soft locks then ghosting his fingers lightly across his forehead tracing each arching brow, down his straight nose, over the perfect Cupid’s bow of his top lip and full swell of his bottom lip, dipping into the cleft of his strong chin. He stared at each feature as he traced them, committing the moment to memory. When Steve’s eyes met Bucky’s again, they were so tender Steve felt as if he could die right there and be content. Bucky slowly lowered his mouth to Steve’s in a gentle brush, soft and pure. 

Steve felt the heat pool in his belly again, his body releasing another wave of slick as it demanded him to mate. Their kisses began to pick up speed, tongues exploring each other’s mouths. Steve’s hand slithered down Bucky’s shoulder past his ribs and torso, muscles jumping under his fingertips before wrapping his long fingers around Bucky’s impressive cock. It was hot and achingly hard, precum beading out of the tip. Bucky groaned and leaned his head into the hollow between Steve’s shoulder and jaw, nosing at his scent gland and marking him. Steve circled his thumb around and under the head, spreading the liquid over the soft skin of his cock. With the first pull of his fist, Steve had Bucky swearing filthy things breathily into his ear.

“Oh Stevie,” he husked out, breath warm and hot against Steve’s throat. Steve couldn’t suppress the whine that pulled from his mouth at pleasing his Alpha as he continued to slowly jerk him off. “Oh darlin’ so good,” Bucky babbled trying not to completely lose control and come so embarrassingly soon. Another wave of slick leaked out from between Steve’s cheeks at the low husky tone of Bucky’s voice, the feel of his lips against the scent gland in his neck. 

“In me, now. Alpha,” Steve begged, his legs pulling up and spreading wider on either side of Bucky’s thick thighs to cradle his hips.

“So bossy,” Bucky teased with a grin, giving Steve’s throat a playful bite.

“Cock… inside me… now, ya asshole.” Steve meant for it to come out forcefully, but his voice only managed to produce something breathy and desperate. Bucky’s responding chuckle was cut short when Steve gave his cock a gentle squeeze, grinning in triumph when Bucky groaned and dropped his forehead back into Steve’s neck. Impatiently, Steve canted his hips toward Bucky’s groin and growled in frustration.

“Alright, alright. I got ya, sweetheart,” Bucky whispered, his voice now tender. He sat up, leaning back onto the heels of his feet and stared down at Steve. Steve felt himself flush in both embarrassment and desire at the fact that he was laid out so open and wantonly for Bucky’s eyes to roam. Bucky watched the blush travel down Steve’s neck and bloom across his pale, heaving chest mesmerized by every inch of creamy flesh Steve offered up to him. 

Slowly, Bucky’s fingertips began tracing up Steve’s legs. The feeling of both flesh and metal simultaneously touching Steve’s skin was both strange and exciting, his cock twitching where it lay red and swollen against his abdomen. Bucky continued his exploration, swirling his fingers on the soft skin of his inner thighs making Steve gasp before continuing up and over the peaks of Steve’s sharp hipbones then circling his bellybutton. Steve felt the twinge of self-consciousness bleed into his mind as Bucky fingered each of his ribs, closing his eyes tightly against the negative thoughts. He’d always been underweight—was continuously picked on for being too scrawny when growing up, and even into adulthood.

“Stevie,” Bucky called softly, fingers continuing to draw patterns into his skin. “Look at me.”

Embarrassed, Steve screwed his eyes shut even tighter and turning his head to the side, his face burrowing into the soft covers underneath him. Bucky’s flesh hand was suddenly gripping Steve’s chin firmly and turning his face back toward him.

“I said, look at me Omega,” Bucky growled, causing Steve’s eyes to immediately pop open. Bucky’s stormy eyes were trained on his face intensely, though his facial features remained soft and open. 

“So beautiful.” Bucky let go of his chin, tracing up the hollow of his cheek and over his cheekbone. Steve continued to stare up at him silently. 

“So goddamn beautiful, sweetheart. Felt my heart stop right on the spot when I saw ya that firs’ day in the shop.” His voice was reverent and low, fingertips trailing along Steve’s bottom lip. His full lips twisted up on one side into a small grin. 

“Never seen anythin’ like you before, Stevie. Would’a died a million times over just to touch ya just once.” Bucky’s gaze never wavered, tenderly staring down into Steve’s face. Steve’s fear dissipated as quickly as it came, heart swelling until he thought it would burst from his chest to bury itself into this amazing man.

Completely floored by Bucky’s sincere confession, Steve confidently wrapped his legs around Bucky’s back and pulled him flush against his body. His arms slithered around Bucky’s shoulders and onto his strong back.

“Then show me,” Steve demanded, tilting his face up and staring passionately into Bucky’s eyes. Bucky’s hot mouth crashed into his, frantic and fierce, teeth bumping against each other and lips bruising with force. 

Keeping himself steady with this metal hand, Bucky used his other to grab ahold of his aching cock and guide it toward Steve’s weeping entrance. Steve broke off their kiss with a loud moan at the feel of the head of Bucky’s cock circling his hole, Bucky trying to get as much slick onto his cock as he could, and the brush of his hand against the underside of his balls.

Slowly, Bucky pushed the head of his cock into the loosened ring of muscle, feeling them give way and suck him in greedily. Using all of the self-control he possessed, he continued to gently push himself in; listening to Steve’s small hisses and groans as his entrance burned deliciously at the intrusion. 

“That’s it. So good, Stevie,” Bucky continued to praise until he finally bottomed out. Steve felt so overwhelmed with sensation. Bucky filling him up so completely, making him feel whole. The scents of their arousal, sweat, and sex hanging heavy in the air around them. Bucky’s weight on top of him, arms on either side of his head and face hovering above his. His whole being was surrounded by Bucky, mind chanting a chorus of ‘ _Bucky, Bucky, Bucky_.’ 

“You still with me, sweetheart?” The tender sound of Bucky’s familiar Brooklyn drawl broke Steve out of his haze. His eyes sharpened, focusing on Bucky’s face above him. “Doin’ okay baby?” His hand reached up and brushed Steve’s blond bangs, dark with sweat, from his forehead.

“Yeah, Buck,” Steve rasped, turning his head to the side and nuzzling at the scent gland in Bucky’s wrist. “Would be better if ya moved.” Steve’s hands slid down Bucky’s strong back, grasping his ass and giving each cheek a tight squeeze. Bucky huffed out a laugh, his warm breath fanning across Steve’s face. 

“Yessir,” Bucky replied dutifully, swooping in to steal a quick kiss from Steve’s opened lush mouth with a grin. Any witty retort that Steve had died in his throat when Bucky slid out of him, then pushed all the way back in. Bucky created a steady rhythm with his hips, fucking Steve slowly. Each thrust was punctuated with a groan from Steve, his heat having hit him completely and making every nerve sensitive. 

Bucky’s lips began an exploration of Steve’s flesh, kissing over his chin and down his throat, licking his scent gland as he passed before continuing on to his protruding collarbones. Steve’s breath hitched in a gasp when he felt the scrape of Bucky’s teeth against one of his nipples, arching his back up toward his hungry mouth. Steve’s hands flew to Bucky’s head, fingers tangling in the thick dark locks. 

“Oh, Bucky,” Steve panted as Bucky continued to worry the hard, reddening nipple with his hot mouth. Baring his weight on his metal arm, Bucky wrapped his flesh hand around Steve’s aching cock where it lay dribbling against his stomach. “Oh God!” Steve choked out, hands tightening in Bucky’s hair and throwing his head back. 

“That’s right, sweetheart. Wanna see you come again. Can ya do that for me, Stevie?” Bucky asked, stroking Steve’s cock firmly in time to his thrusts.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Steve swore in a long groan, his head turning from side to side at the new onslaught of pleasure racing up his spine. With every twist of Bucky’s wrist Steve felt his body coiling tighter and tighter, warmth spreading up from his toes and traveling up his body. Bucky reattached himself to the side of Steve’s throat, licking and sucking encouragingly as Steve continued to swear up a storm. The back of Steve’s shaking thighs broke out in goose bumps sweat dripping down his feverish body. Pleasure suddenly shot through his body, a low whine ripping out of his throat. 

“So good for me, Stevie. So pretty when you come,” Bucky rasped, continuing to stroke Steve’s cock as cum painted his chest. Steve’s body shook, eyelids fluttering and chest heaving as he began coming down from his orgasm. 

Bucky stilled his hips, focusing all of his attention on the Omega underneath him. He continued to praise Steve with gentle nonsensical words, peppering kisses all over his face. Once Steve’s breathing returned to as close to normal as his faulty lungs could manage, he opened his eyes to Bucky’s concerned face.

“You with me, sweetheart?” Bucky asked, fingertips ghosting across Steve’s flushed cheekbones. Steve’s mouth pulled into a grin, a rumbling ‘Mmm’ escaping his throat. Bucky quirked an eyebrow at him in return.

“That good, huh?” He asked with a salacious grin, his chest preening every bit the proud Alpha. Steve groaned and rolled his cornflower eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he said, blushing all the way down to his bellybutton. In retaliation, Steve clenched his muscles around Bucky’s still deeply buried cock and wiggling his hips, making more slick seep out of his hole and causing Bucky to groan.

“Wipe that shit-eatin’ grin off your face or I’ll do it for ya,” Steve growled, eyes blazing up at Bucky’s widening smirk.

“You gonna make me, Stevie?” Bucky challenged right back. 

With surprising strength and speed, Steve managed to throw his body weight into Bucky, rolling him onto his back with Steve perched triumphantly on top of him. Steve stared down at Bucky’s shocked look, eyes and mouth wide with surprise.

“Maybe you should keep that smart mouth shut, Barnes,” Steve suggested with a feral grin, face so close to Bucky’s their noses brushed, his hands resting firmly on Bucky’s strong chest. Bucky’s tongue swiped across his lips, eyes deepening with lust as he pushed his face even closer to Steve’s.

“Why don’t you shut it for me?” He managed to whisper before Steve’s lips crashed into his in a bruising kiss. Steve’s hips began to move, slowly undulating to mimic the thrusting of his tongue into Bucky’s mouth. He could feel the burn in his thighs as he picked up his pace, fucking himself on Bucky’s cock with vigor. Steve broke their kiss with a groan, shifting into an upright position with his hands braced behind him on Bucky’s thick thighs, his head thrown back and chest pushed out with the arching of his back. Bucky’s hands traveled up Steve’s smooth, creamy thighs until they gripped his hips firmly.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Bucky swore, staring at the spot where they joined. Watching as his cock disappeared into Steve’s hungry swollen pink hole over and over again. His eyes traveled up, his breath catching at the sight: Steve’s blonde hair was a golden halo around his head shining in the light pouring in from the windows; cheeks flushed a lovely shade of pink from exertion and his heat; red swollen mouth open and panting into the air; chest pushed out and heaving, rosy nipples hardened and sensitive; dick bouncing against his cum covered stomach. Bucky could feel his balls begin to tighten and warmth start tingling the base of his spine.

“Alpha, Alpha, Alpha,” Steve began chanting desperately, voice hoarse with passion. Bucky growled in response, his grip on Steve’s hips tightening enough to bruise and he held him firmly as he slammed his hips up into Steve. The room was filled with the sounds of Steve’s desperate whines, Bucky’s harsh breaths, and the filthy sound of skin slapping skin. With every brutal thrust, Bucky could feel his knot starting to swell, catching on the rim of Steve’s hole. 

“Knot me, Alpha! Breed me,” Steve begged, raking his blunt nails down Bucky’s chest and hips canting frantically to take him deeper. The sound of Steve’s begging mixed with the overwhelming scent of Omega arousal pushed Bucky over the edge. With a loud groan, his knot popped snuggly into Steve’s tight hole, coming hotly inside of him. The sensation caused Steve’s body to stiffen as waves of pleasure assaulted him, letting out a low desperate whine. His greedy hole fluttered hungrily around Bucky’s knot, filling him with another wave of cum. 

Boneless, Steve flopped onto Bucky’s chest, panting with exertion and emanating satisfied Omega smell. Bucky automatically began nosing at Steve’s neck, his Alpha hindbrain preening and basking in the scent he produced from his Omega. They laid like that for a bit, slowly catching their breaths and coming down from their post-orgasmic high. Bucky’s hands ran up and down Steve’s spine soothingly and petted his hair tenderly. After a few minutes of aftercare, Steve’s breathing evened out completely, body relaxed in Bucky’s arms.

“Stevie, you with me sweetheart?” Bucky asked nosing his sweaty hairline. When Steve didn’t reply, Bucky opened his eyes and peaked down at him, chuckling when he found Steve already asleep. Not wanting to disturb him, but also not wanting him to end up with one hell of a crick in his neck, Bucky tried to shift him as delicately as possible. The movement caused Bucky’s knot to pull on Steve’s swollen hole, making Steve unconsciously wriggle his hips. Bucky groaned, hips automatically undulated in return, his knot pumping out another wave of hot cum inside him. 

He finally managed to get them both on their sides, not the most ideal position to be stuck in, but it was the best he could do. Especially considering the fact that it had been such a long time since he had actually mated someone, he wasn’t sure how long his knot would take to go down. Steve unconsciously snuggled closer to Bucky’s body, face pressed into Bucky’s neck. Bucky could feel Steve’s hot breaths puffing across throat and his nose bumping against the underside of his jaw. Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve’s naked shoulders, pulling him in closer to keep him warm— _safe_ —before drifting off as well.

A few hours later, Steve woke up feeling like he was on fire. Desire was coursing through him, his heat vibrating intensely under his skin. The need to be filled caused his ass to grind down, seeking relief. The weight on his chest tightened, pulling him against the solid mass at his back. A low growl rumbled against his back causing a delighted shiver to race up his spine and a whine to rise from his throat. 

“Alpha,” he rasped in a sleep heavy voice. “Bucky, please. Need you now,” he begged, his hand intertwining with the hand Bucky had on his sternum. 

“I got ya, Stevie,” Bucky responded in a voice rough with sleep. Using the arm wrapped around Steve’s middle, Bucky maneuvered him onto their knees.

It was fast and hard, Steve’s body demanding to be mated at that moment. Steve was on his knees, ass in the air and face shoved into the pillow between his elbows to muffle his pleasured screams. Bucky’s whole body was bowed over Steve’s, mouth on his neck and hips slamming relentlessly into him. The wet slapping of skin echoed throughout the room, wonderfully filthy to their ears. 

“Alpha, Alpha, Alpha,” Steve babbled, the cotton pillow under his face wet with spit and warm from his panting breaths. He could feel himself reaching the precipice, completely lost in his desire to sate his heat controlled body. “Fuuuuuck,” he shouted, gripping the sheets tightly in his fists and legs shaking uncontrollably as his orgasm hit him. 

Bucky continued to pound his prostate relentlessly, milking his orgasm until Steve was crying with overstimulation. With a growl, Bucky’s teeth bit into the back of Steve’s neck—firm, but not hard enough to break skin—and his swollen knot popped inside of Steve, filling him cum. Steve’s hole spasmed in pleasure around his knot, pumping cum into him with every squeeze until is started to slowly leak out from around Bucky’s engorged knot.

“Bucky,” Steve whispered, voice reverent and sated. Bucky detached his teeth from the back of Steve’s neck, licking the small wound with care.

“I’m here Stevie,” Bucky murmured back softly. “I got ya sweetheart.”

Bucky carefully pulled Steve to his chest then maneuvered them slowly until they were lying on their sides again. Steve whined when Bucky’s knot tugged on his sensitive entrance. Bucky shushed him gently, hand stroking down his side and peppering kisses over his shoulder, neck, face. Steve’s face turned toward Bucky and captured his lips in lazy sleepy kisses until they both fell back asleep.

The next time Steve woke, the urgent need to mate was not immediately pressing down upon him. While his heat still bubbled under the surface of his skin, he was in a small reprieve for the time being until it flared up again. He groaned, stretching all of his deliciously sore muscles feeling like a contented cat purring in a patch of sunlight. Suddenly remembering that he hadn’t been alone for the past… however many hours it had been since the incident in the alley, his eyes shot open in search of Bucky. 

Having been lost in a heat-induced haze on his way into Bucky’s house, he hadn’t really paid much attention to actually looking at anything inside of the house. Bucky was nowhere to be seen, but Steve dropped that thought when he looked around himself. He was situated in the middle of a giant cherrywood four-poster bed, dark navy material canopied above his head and curtained around the bed with small softly glowing LED lights lining the posts. The curtains were soft on his fingertips and enclosed him inside the confines of the bed. 

Next, Steve noticed that the bed had way more pillows and blankets on it than any bed had a right to. It occurred to him suddenly that it hadn’t had that many on it earlier, when they had first entered the room. Warmth swelled in his chest when he was hit with the realization that Bucky had made him a safe place for his heat—he had made him a nest. It smelled like a wonderful combination of Steve’s scent mixed with Bucky’s, the lingering smell of sex, and clean detergent. 

The curtain to his right pulled open slowly, revealing Bucky dressed in comfy grey sweats hanging low on his hips and a soft black tee, his hair pulled into a sloppy bun and a tray in his metal hand. At Steve’s sharp intake of breath, Bucky’s eyes snapped up to his.

“Hey, you’re awake,” he said, mouth stretching into a grin. “How ya feelin’?” His voice was light and friendly, but Steve could feel an underlying nervousness, see the uncertainty lurking behind his stormy grey eyes. 

Steve’s heart clenched, wanting to assure Bucky but finding himself also unsure of where they stand. Steeling himself, Steve smiled shyly out from under his nest of blankets that Bucky had thoughtfully built for him, and reached a hand out toward him palm up. 

“Better ‘n I’ve been for a while, thanks to you,” Steve admitted sincerely, staring into Bucky’s eyes. Bucky’s eyes darted from Steve’s gaze down to his outstretched then back up to his face. His shoulders sagged with relief, smiling genuinely as he reached his hand out to grasp Steve’s. 

“Brought ya some food. Figured you’d prob’ly worked up an appetite,” he said holding up the tray with a wink, grinning when Steve’s blush deepened and traveled down his chest. They both laughed when Steve’s stomach chose that moment to growl in agreement. 

Bucky set the tray down in front of Steve before crawling back into the bed and drawing the curtain closed behind him. Turning back, he pulled the lid to the tray open to reveal two cheese and veggie omelets, a small stack of buttered toast, and some bottled waters. Steve’s mouth watered at the sight, quickly picking up a forkful and shoving it into his mouth. As soon as it hit his tongue, Steve’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and groaned obscenely. 

“Oh my god, Buck,” Steve managed to get out around another mouthful. “You made this?” He asked, not being able to hide his shock and surprise. Bucky chuckled in return, eating his own forkful.

“Yeah, my ma taught me,” he answered proudly. “Have four Omega sisters an’ one Alpha sister an’ me. When we were growin’ up my ma taught us all how to cook. Said, “I don’t care if you’re an Alpha, you still gotta eat don’t ya? Ain’t no kid a’ mine gonna starve ‘cause they think they’re too good to cook for themself!”” Bucky chuckled at his own impression of his mother, lost in the memory. Steve’s heart twinged with sadness at the fond look on Bucky’s face, thinking of his own mother.

“My pops also taught us all how t’ fight, so it all evened out,” he finished with a shrug, taking a huge bite of toast. Steve nodded, in return, Bucky having mentioned his siblings before in a few previous conversations at the café. Steve wondered what it would be like to have such a big family, though he really did love the close relationship that he and his mother had shared at the result of only having the two of them.

“Speaking of fightin’, how did you know I was in trouble yesterday?” Steve asked, shoving another forkful of omelet into his mouth and lifting a brow at Bucky. It was Bucky’s turn to blush as his tongue darted across his bottom lip out of habit and his eyes dropped to his plate.

“I, uh, I had actually been outside your buildin’ for a while. Tryin’ to get the courage up to actually visit ya,” Bucky explained, continuing to look only at his plate as he systematically cut his omelet into equal sized bites.

“Stopped by the café to talk to ya, but Barton said ya were still sick every time. I got worried about ya, but he said ya get sick pretty often and that you’d be fine after a few days.” Steve’s ears burned in shame, both at Bucky knowing about his propensity for illnesses, and for spiraling into semi-depression and hiding in his apartment for days.

“Was still tryin’ to not be a coward when I saw ya leave the building an’ walk down the street,” Bucky blushed again, eating one of his proportioned omelet bites. “I, uh, could smell that you were in pre-heat and was jus’ gonna go home in case I did anythin’ stupid, but halfway to my house I thought of how rough you looked and really needed to see how you were doin’.” Bucky’s face suddenly became hard, eyes turning to steel.

“Heard your voice, could smell your scent.” Bucky’s jaw clenched. “Could smell his scent.”

“I had ‘im on the ropes,” Steve intoned stubbornly while also trying to calm him down. Bucky snorted, rolling his eyes. His mouth quirked up into small grin though, so Steve counted that as a win.

“Thank you, for helpin’ me,” Steve said quietly, meeting Bucky’s eyes. “I mean it.” He reached over and laid his hand onto Bucky’s metal wrist, thumb stroking over the smooth plates. Bucky’s eyes snapped down to his hand and stared at the contrast of pale flesh and shining metal.

“I um, wasn’t sick,” Steve blurted out suddenly, the desire to be absolutely honest with him taking over. Bucky looked up at him in surprise. “Well, I mean, I was I guess? But not like, the flu or somethin’ sick. Ugh! It’s hard to explain!” Steve muttered, running his hands roughly through his hair and making his bedhead even worse. 

“I’m listenin’ if you wanna try an’ talk about it,” Bucky offered, concern now furrowing his brow. 

“I told ya my, uh, my ma passed away a li’l over a year ago yeah?” Steve asked then continued when Bucky gave him a sympathetic nod and a gentle squeeze to his hand. “Well, I didn’t really… I didn’t really do so well after. I barely did anythin’—didn’t eat, didn’t leave the house unless I had to, didn’t talk to nobody—just slept and existed, I guess.” Steve took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I was severely depressed.”

It was both terrifying and freeing at the same time for Steve to finally admit it, to actually accept it and move on from denial. He chanced a glance up at Bucky, feeling hope well in his chest when he saw that Bucky wasn’t judging him or uncomfortable with his admission. Bucky’s eyes were sad, but he gave Steve an encouraging smile and another gentle hand caress.

“Sometimes, I have episodes where I slip back. Haven’t really had that many in the past few months. Had other things to distract an’ help me,” Steve said grinning and bumping his shoulder with Bucky’s. Bucky’s answering smile was like seeing the sun after days of darkness.

“But, uh, that day you found my sketches. I thought I ruined everythin’,” Steve explained. “The look on your face… I thought you were disgusted by them—by me. I thought I’d lost you,” Steve’s voice was rough with emotion, tears stinging the back of his eyes. “And I just… went home an’ didn’t leave.”

“Oh, Stevie no,” Bucky choked out. He lifted his hands to cradle Steve’s face. Steve met his eyes shining with tears, bottom lip wobbling. 

“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry,” Bucky murmured, wiping the twin tears rolling down Steve’s cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. “I could never think about you like that, ever. Stevie, you’re perfect an’ beautiful an’ funny an’ amazin’.” His eyes darted over every one of Steve’s features, drinking them in like he was dying of thirst.

“The way you drew me. Like I was someone worth loving,” Bucky’s gaze turned sad, “but I’m not.” Steve was stunned, brows instantly pulling down in confusion; the statement literally not computing in Steve’s brain. Bucky was everything. Bucky was kindness and warmth and light. He’d never met anyone more deserving of love. How could anyone resist loving him?

“I’m not a good person, Steve,” Bucky admitted, hands falling from Steve’s face and sitting loosely in his lap. “I’ve done horrible things.” His face became like a blank mask, emotions falling away instantly and making Steve feel on edge.

“I don’t understand,” Steve stammered out slowly.

“Went into the army as soon as I got outta high school, bought into all a’ that ‘the strength of our country is the strength of our Alphas’ bullshit propaganda they go ‘round peddling out at high schools to young Alphas eager for a fight.” Bucky’s voice was void of inflection, his eyes staring down into his lap. Steve was surprised to find that Bucky had been in the military.

“Found out I was good with a sniper rifle… very good. After a few years, I signed on to a special ops team as a sniper. All of our missions were top secret, very confidential. They’d put together a file, a plan, an’ we’d be sent in to take the targets out an’ get out of there. We were ghosts. We didn’t exist,” Bucky let out a wry chuckle, his mouth turning into a sharp grin.  
“Found out why. You heard a’ Hydra?” Bucky asked, flickering his eyes to Steve. 

“The neo-nazi terrorist organization?” Steve asked, in confusion. Bucky barked out a harsh laugh.

“Yeah, that’s the one. Turns out, a lot of the higher ups in the military were Hydra an’ usin’ soldiers to do their dirty work. I killed people for ‘em Steve. Good people,” Bucky’s voice broke, pressing his face into his hands. Bucky’s normal alluring spicy scent became tinged with utter sadness. Steve whined, pressing closer into Bucky’s side, his Omega hindbrain demanding him to help his Alpha.

“Buck, that’s not you’re fault. You didn’t know,” Steve murmured, wrapping himself around Bucky like a protective shield. 

“No… But I did it. God, Steve I shot a guy in his own home an’ left him for his kid to find. Didn’t even know he had a kid ‘til I heard the crying, saw the kid standing over him through the scope ‘a my rifle,” Steve’s heart broke as Bucky’s body began shaking in his arms, broken sobs punctuating the air. Steve shushed him quietly, rubbing every piece of exposed skin he could find comfortingly. 

“That’s how I got this,” Bucky said lifting his metal hand up, flexing his fingers. “When we found out, we decided to burn it to the ground. Hacked their systems, found their operations base, and just went for it. Didn’t get out in time, got pinned under debris.” Steve took a sharp breath in at the prospect of Bucky possibly dying. 

“Got the government’s attention though. They came to investigate, found out about Hydra… found me. Next thing I know, I’m gettin’ honorably discharged an’ the government is payin’ for me to get a new arm.” Bucky deflated in Steve’s arms, emotionally drained and falling into a familiar cycle of self-loathing. “You deserve so much better Steve.”

Righteous fury welled up within Steve. With a growl he grabbed Bucky’s face between his hands and forced Bucky to stare into his eyes.

“You listen to me, and you listen good James Buchanan Barnes,” Steve demanded, Bucky’s eyes widening at his tone. “You are amazin’ an’ beautiful an’ stronger than anyone I have ever known. What happened to you… what they made you do? That wasn’t your fault. You were just a kid doin’ what you thought was right for your country. When you found out it was wrong, you fought back, you stopped them. You’re so brave, Bucky.” Steve’s voice softened, his thumbs rubbed across Bucky’s cheekbones lovingly wiping away the fat tears that rolled from his bright grey eyes.

“And I,” Steve hesitated for a second, biting his bottom lip nervously, “I love you.” At Bucky’s surprised look, Steve quickly began to ramble.

“I jus’ needed ya to know. You don’t—“ Bucky cut off his rambling with a swift kiss.

“I love ya too, ya punk,” Bucky whispered against his lips, a disbelieving chuckle bubbling up. Steve laughed brightly, heart soaring out of his chest.

“Then I think you should take off your clothes and show me, jerk.” With that Steve crawled out of his nest of blankets, completely bare and uncaring, pushing the center of Bucky’s broad chest until he leaned back against the headboard of the bed. Bucky’s eyes darkened with lust as he watched Steve ruck his shirt up his chest, kissing and licking the newly exposed skin as he went. He pulled the shirt over his head to find Steve’s full lips waiting to be kissed. 

Their kisses were filthy, tongues delving hotly into each other’s mouths making wet sounds with each changing angle. Steve broke the kiss with a deep breath, mouth red and glistening, before he dived back in to Bucky’s neck. He licked and sucked on Bucky’s scent gland, feeling Bucky’s cock swell in pleasure underneath him. Steve continued to hot trail opened mouth kisses down Bucky’s strong chest and well-defined torso. Bucky’s breathing picked up, coming out in harsh pants the closer Steve got to his groin. Steve playfully ran his tongue around Bucky’s bellybutton causing him to squirm and yelp. Steve chuckled, shooting a teasing grin up at him and Bucky just huffed in return.

Steve hooked his thumbs into the waistband of Bucky’s sweats as he nibbled at the muscular ‘V’ of Bucky’s hips. Steve groaned mouth watering when he managed to get his sweats down, freeing Bucky’s hardened cock to spring against his belly. Steve licked his lips, Bucky’s cock twitching at the sight. Slowly, Steve took his hand and wrapped his slender fingers around the base before leaning his head down and placing a small kiss to the head. Bucky groaned at the contact, his head falling back with a ‘thump’ against the headboard. 

With a grin of satisfaction, Steve decided to get to work. Opening his mouth, he licked a large stripe up the underside of Bucky’s cock with the flat of his tongue. Bucky swore, his cock continuing to swell in Steve’s hands and reaching down to splay his fingers in Steve’s soft golden hair. Steve looked up at Bucky from underneath his lashes before swallowing him down as far as he could go. He continued to work his tongue along the thick vein that ran up the underside of his cock while hollowing his cheeks out. He pulled up and off of Bucky’s dick with a wet ‘pop,’ his hand stroking up to coat his saliva down the shaft before diving back in and bobbing his head up and down while sucking. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, Stevie,” Bucky swore, hand gripping a fistful of hair and tugging at the roots. Steve moaned around Bucky’s cock at the sensation of his hair being pulled, making Bucky groan and thrust up into his mouth. Bucky tugged again a little harder causing a wave of slick to leak out from between Steve’s cheeks and down the back of this thighs. Steve pulled back, swirling his tongue around the head of Bucky’s cock, tracing the ridge in the underside of the tip as his fist continued to fuck the base. Steve let out a whine when he felt Bucky pull his face away from his cock, his mouth and chin covered in spit. 

“Not gonna last much longer if ya keep goin’ like that, sweetheart,” Bucky chuckled breathily, thumb running along Steve’s glistening pouting lower lip. “Come up here an’ let me make it up to ya, huh,” Bucky suggested in a placating tone at Steve’s continued pouting. Wiggling down a bit so that he was lying with his head on a pillow, he grabbed Steve by the backs of his thighs and pulled him up until Steve was straddling his chest.

“Hold on to the headboard. Yeah, just like that, sweetheart,” he encouraged when Steve did as he said and gripped the smooth cherrywood headboard firmly. With that, Bucky lifted Steve up and over his face before lowering him back down so that Steve’s thighs were straddling his head. Steve let out a deep, loud groan when he felt Bucky spread his cheeks apart and traced his tongue around Steve’s tight hole. He licked and sucked at Steve’s hole greedily, the sounds of wet smacking echoing filthily in Steve’s ears. Steve’s hips began undulating on their own, fucking himself on Bucky’s tongue. Taking that cue, Bucky added a finger alongside his tongue and then another, crooking and scissoring them inside the loosened muscle. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” Steve chanted with every swipe of Bucky’s fingers to his prostate. Steve’s forehead fell against the headboard with a whimper when Bucky managed a third finger, fucking them deeper and faster the more desperate Steve’s hips moved. Steve’s movements became sloppy and erratic as pleasure shot up his spine. His body seized up suddenly, toes curing and back straightening as his orgasm burned through him. He slumped against the headboard, panting and whining as Bucky slid his fingers from his entrance. 

Bucky sat up slowly, pulling Steve into his lap before turning him over to lie on his back. He situated himself between Steve’s opened thighs then grabbed Steve’s hands and held them above Steve’s head.

“Deep breaths, Stevie,” he encouraged as Steve took in deep lungfuls of air. “You doin’ okay?”

Steve opened his hazy eyes and gave Bucky a lazy grin before wiggling his hips against Bucky’s aching erection. 

“In me now Bucky,” Steve responded, pulling his legs up toward his chest and presenting Bucky a view of his hungry fucked out hole. Bucky almost died on the spot at the lovely picture before him. With a rumbling growl he grabbed his cock and ran it along Steve’s hole, gathering excess slick and coating it down his length. Lining his cock up, he slowly pushed the head into his hole, the loosened ring of muscle giving way. They both let out simultaneous groans as Bucky continued to push inside him until he’d bottomed out, Steve’s greedy hole sucking him in deeper. Bucky hooked his forearms under Steve’s knees, pulling his legs further up his chest and over Bucky’s shoulders. The new position sunk his cock even further inside of Steve, ripping a pleasured whine from his throat. Bucky slowly pulled out all the way before slamming back in, setting a rough pace.

“Fuck me, Alpha. Fuck me,” Steve babbled over and over as Bucky continued to pound into him, his hands scrambling up to brace against the headboard to prevent his head from hitting it. Each hard thrust was punctuated with the squelch of slick and the slap of skin on skin. Bucky’s knot began to swell, catching on the lip of Steve’s entrance and causing Bucky’s jaw to clench. 

“Steve, I’m gonna—“ Bucky growled between gritted teeth.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Steve encouraged breathily, cutting him off and canting his hips erratically to pull Bucky’s knot further inside him. With a loud groan and a particularly hard slam of his hips, Bucky’s knot finally caught inside of Steve’s entrance. Steve whined low in his throat at the feel of Bucky’s cum shooting inside of him as Bucky continued to thrust shallowly, eyes screwed shut and jaw clenched tight against the pleasure assaulting his senses. 

Steve’s arms slowly snaked up and around Bucky’s neck, pulling him down for a lazy kiss. Bucky’s arms began to shake and Steve encouraged him to rest on top of him, Bucky gently lowering his weight down onto him. Steve made a purring sound deep in his chest, the safe weight of Bucky surrounding him warm and content, his knot still buried inside him comfortingly. Bucky slowly nosed his way up Steve’s throat, scenting him thoroughly under the hinge of his jaw then up his sweaty hairline as they both caught their breaths.

“Thank you, for the nest,” Steve’s soft voice suddenly spoke, his impossibly blue eyes meeting Bucky’s shyly. Bucky smiled in return, kissing Steve’s temple.

“Anythin’ for my best guy,” Bucky whispered back in return, then looked up at the dark navy canopy above them with the soft glowing lights. “I like to close the curtains and turn these on when I’m havin’ a hard night. Reminds me of space,” he said shrugging then grinned when he heard Steve’s snort.

“Space nerd,” Steve huffed out with a laugh, causing both of them to groan in pleasure when it jostled Bucky’s knot inside of him. 

“Yeah, but you love it,” Bucky whispered against his mouth, grey eyes filled with genuine happiness and mirth.

“Yeah, I do,” Steve said sincerely back, kissing his plush mouth in a sweet lazy kiss, the way he’d always dreamed of doing. Bucky suddenly broke the kiss, looking down at Steve with a serious look on his face. Steve felt a sliver of panic race through him at the look of Bucky’s furrowed brow and slight frown.

“Steve, will you go on a date with me?” He asked staring down at Steve intently. Steve stared back at him, eyes wide with shock before finally laughing in relief. 

“Yes, ya jerk,” Steve said, grabbing Bucky’s face and peppering it with kisses while Bucky laughed happily in return.


End file.
